


Dead Man Walking

by gluupor



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Valentine's Day Exchange 2019, Ace Spec Neil, Bodyguard Andrew, Happy Ending, Hitman Neil, Implied Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 22:45:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17754917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor
Summary: Nathaniel Wesninski, hitman for the Moriyama crime family, is Kevin's star witness in a  legal case, but the Moriyamas have no intention of letting him live long enough to testify. Luckily, Kevin knows just the man who can protect him.





	Dead Man Walking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemeralsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralsky/gifts).



> This is my Valentine's Day Exchange gift for nakasomethingkun who wanted a Hitman's Bodyguard AU where Neil is the renowned hitman who is a key witness in a case against the Moriyamas and Andrew is the ex- ~~CIA~~ FBI agent who is hired by Kevin to act as Neil's bodyguard.
> 
> Hope you like it!

Andrew was already half finished his lunch by the time Kevin arrived at the diner. Kevin rolled his eyes, too used to Andrew's rudeness to be surprised. Instead, he picked up a quarter of Andrew's club sandwich and unceremoniously shoved it in his mouth. Anyone else would have received a knife through their hand but Andrew just pushed his plate over and signalled the waitress to bring another order.

Kevin practically inhaled the food. Andrew assumed that he was involved with a big case; he often forgot to eat when wrapped up in work.

"I've got a job for you," said Kevin after he finished the sandwich. He shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. "Six weeks, twenty-four/seven protection. I'll pay your regular hourly rate plus expenses."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. His hourly rates were not cheap. "Sounds important."

Kevin glanced around and lowered his voice. "I'm bringing a case against the Moriyamas."

The name set Andrew on high alert. "You're in danger?" he asked.

"No," said Kevin. "Killing me won't get them anywhere. Another prosecutor would just take the case." The words sounded rehearsed, as if Kevin had frequently repeated them. The case must be aggravating Kevin's anxiety. "I'm not the one who needs protection. It's my witness."

"Must be some witness."

"Andrew," said Kevin seriously, "without him all I have is circumstantial evidence and the Moriyamas will walk. I _need_ him to testify."

"Is there any reason you're not putting him into witness protection?"

"He doesn't trust it," said Kevin. "Several witnesses against the Moriyamas have been killed while under FBI protection. Considering that he was _responsible_ for some of those deaths he's perfectly aware of the danger."

"Hitman," mused Andrew. "You've offered him immunity?"

"Don't pretend at moral superiority. This is the best chance there's ever been to get anything to stick to the Moriyamas. He was in their inner circle; he can take them down."

"As long as they don't take him out first."

"Which is where you come in," said Kevin. "You'll need a safe house; no one, not even me, can know where it is. And then _keep him there_ until he has a chance to testify."

"Will keeping him there be a problem?"

"He's twitchy. I'm convinced that he's going to disappear completely if he doesn't think you can protect him."

"Six weeks holed up with a twitchy killer," said Andrew dryly. "You bring me such quality work."

"Which is why I'm paying you a frankly obscene amount," Kevin said.

Andrew conceded the point. He could use the money.

He'd been recruited to the FBI directly out of college, his ridiculously high aptitude scores cancelling out his past criminal offenses. He'd graduated from Quantico with some of the highest marks of all time and a promising career in front of him.

It had not taken him long to figure out that the corporate culture that rewarded ass-kissing and punished creative thinking was not for him. He'd still stuck it out through years of mediocre assignments before he couldn't take it anymore.

After he left the FBI he'd tried to work at a private security firm but had not fit in there, either. Now, he offered private bodyguard services by referral and worked as a bouncer at a club to fill the holes in his income. Six weeks of twenty-four hour pay plus expenses would be more than he usually made in a year.

"Alright," he said. "I'll need a couple days and twenty grand upfront in cash to set everything up."

"You have forty hours and I'll get you the money by this afternoon," said Kevin.

"Huh," said Andrew. "I was expecting an argument."

"Did you not hear me before?" asked Kevin. "This might be the _only_ chance to successfully prosecute the Moriyamas."

"So what you're saying is, I should have asked for forty grand."

* * *

Andrew maintained several safe houses in the greater D.C. area and several others in nearby large cities. The majority of his income went towards their upkeep but it was completely necessary for his peace of mind that he have several safe places to bolt if he ever needed to.

Most of his places were tiny, crappy apartments which would not be appropriate to share with another person for a month and a half. He settled on a detached bungalow in Bethesda. It wasn't in a terrible neighbourhood but the turnover was high enough that nobody knew each other and minded their own business.

The freezer and pantry were already stocked with non-perishables so he filled the fridge and set up weekly delivery of dairy and produce. He augmented his already-formidable electronic monitoring and defense systems and hid weapons throughout the house. Then he remembered that he should ensure that there were linens and toiletries; honestly, those things were much less important than having lots and lots of guns.

It was just after 4am when Andrew walked back into the diner. Kevin was already present, looking tense and alert and conspicuous in his attempt to be nonchalant. Next to him, in the spot with the best sight lines where Andrew usually sat, was what appeared to be a sullen teenager. He was slumped insolently, with his arms crossed in a petulant manner. The hood of his hoodie was pulled up, hiding his appearance. As Andrew approached, he sat up and met Andrew's eyes.

His face gave away his age as somewhere in his early thirties, similar to Andrew and Kevin. He had intelligent blue eyes, auburn hair that was more brown than red, and the Japanese character for three tattooed on his left cheekbone. Andrew now understood why Kevin was so convinced that this man could destroy the Moriyamas. He was suddenly much more intrigued by this job.

"Wesninski," he said when he reached the table, both in greeting and in identification. He took a seat with his back to the door which made a shiver run up his spine.

"Minyard," replied Nathaniel Wesninski, the third in command of the Moriyama crime family, behind only Ichirou and Riko Moriyama. His fingers tapped nervously on the table in a repetitive pattern. He turned marginally toward Kevin. "I should have guessed that the only person you would trust with my safety was your own personal guard dog."

"I told you I could guarantee he had no affiliations with the Moriyamas," said Kevin.

 _Tap_ , Nathaniel's fingers hit the table. _Tap, tap_. "I don't need protection," he said. "I can look after myself." _Tap, tap, tap_.

"We've already been over this," said Kevin in irritation. "You can't stay awake between now and the trial."

"I can try." Nathaniel curled his hands into fists to stop his nervous tell.

"You need someone to watch your back," said Kevin.

Nathaniel crossed his arms tightly again. "And you think Minyard's the one to do it?"

"You'll notice that Kevin is still alive," said Andrew.

"Only because Tetsuji had a soft spot for him and decided he wasn't worth killing," retorted Nathaniel. "If I'd been sent after him, he'd be dead." Kevin shuddered.

"You sound confident about that," remarked Andrew.

"You couldn't have stopped me. Not while you were in college. You were too much of a brawler; too undisciplined and reckless."

"Can you stop insulting the person I've hired to protect you?" Kevin griped, elbowing Nathaniel.

"I'm an asshole, Kevin," said Nathaniel, catching Kevin's arm. "If it's that easy to get under his skin then this arrangement will never work. And don't touch me again."

Kevin paled slightly, as if remembering how many sleepless nights he had spent worrying about Nathaniel coming after him. He shifted away minutely.

"I've put up with Kevin for years," said Andrew. "I can deal with your attitude problem, Wesninski."

"Call me Nathaniel. I'm not a big fan of the family name."

"Whatever you're called, I can handle you."

Nathaniel smirked. "You think so?"

"I'm not in college anymore."

"No. You aren't." Nathaniel gave Andrew an assessing look. "Between the two of us we may be able to keep me alive long enough to testify."

"Only until then?"

"No one survives betraying the Moriyamas," said Kevin and Nathaniel in unison.

Nathaniel's lips curled upwards into a smile. It was not a nice smile, it was cruel and sharp. It was the type of smile where blood on his teeth wouldn't have been out of place. Andrew had the feeling that this smile had been the last sight of several people before they died. "Keep sharp. Unlike Kevin, someone will definitely be coming after me. I assure you, I _am_ worth killing."

* * *

Before he left the diner, Andrew slid a prepaid phone across the table to Kevin. The only number it held was to one of Andrew's own burners.

"For emergencies only," he said.

The drive to the safe house took over an hour, despite the fact that it was only a couple miles from the diner. Andrew took a circuitous route and doubled back several times. He made them change cars twice, in rough neighbourhoods. He left the cars running, knowing that they would disappear within minutes. They spent the entire trip in silence, Nathaniel gripping a gun tightly and keeping his eyes open for a tail.

The safe house had an attached garage that opened with a code. Andrew told Nathaniel what it was but he left out the secondary security measures. He wanted to be alerted if Nathaniel tried to run.

"Kitchen," said Andrew pointing as they entered the house, carrying duffels of clothes and supplies. "Living room, dining room, washroom. The bedroom closer to the front door is mine."

Nathaniel disappeared into the second bedroom without another word, before reappearing without his duffel and starting to case the house.

Andrew let him. He made a pot of coffee and then set up his laptop at the dining room table, pulling up his camera feeds and real-time security information. He watched Nathaniel's progress through the house, noting where the other man disappeared from his surveillance so he could strengthen those areas.

"I found seventy-five knives, twenty-eight firearms, sixty-three boxes of ammo, and fourteen grenades," Nathaniel reported.

Andrew sipped his coffee. "You missed a knife," he said. He hadn't, but Andrew figured that a second inventory of their hidden weapons wouldn't hurt him. Besides, Nathaniel with a mission seemed much calmer and less fidgety than he had been earlier.

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes suspiciously but Andrew kept his face blank and continued sipping his coffee until Nathaniel turned away.

Several hours later a knife embedded itself in the table next to Andrew's laptop.

"Seventy-four hidden knives," said Nathaniel from across the room where he'd thrown it.

Andrew barely glanced at the knife. "Make sure to put that back where you got it."

Nathaniel was gone when Andrew looked up, his ability to move without making noise both impressive and unnerving. He returned before long, eating a sandwich.

"What now?" he asked.

"Amuse yourself," said Andrew. "There's WiFi and books and the PS4's hooked up to Netflix. Or," he glanced up at the dark circles under the other man's eyes, "you could sleep. We shouldn't both sleep at the same time, anyway, so you may as well get some shut eye before you're on watch."

"Sleep? That's your advice?"

Andrew shrugged and turned back to the game he was playing on his computer. He was good at his job but he wasn't about to watch camera feeds for hours on end. He wasn't a masochist. "When's the last time you slept?" he asked.

"Soundly?" snorted Nathaniel disdainfully.

"Seven," replied Andrew.

"What?"

"I was seven the last time I slept soundly," said Andrew.

"So twenty-five years, give or take?" said Nathaniel. "Sounds about right."

"You can't watch your back if you're struggling to stay awake."

"Jesus, now you're starting to sound like Mother Hen Day." His voice took on a high mimicking tone. "'Humans need sleep, Nathaniel', 'You can't stay awake forever, Nathaniel.'"

"Kevin is probably the least empathetic person I know," said Andrew. "Save maybe me. If he's worried about your health you're clearly doing something wrong."

"Kevin only cares about his case and for that he needs me to stay alive for the next six weeks."

"And then what'll you do?"

"Then I'll die," said Nathaniel, again smiling his terrible smile. "After that, we'll see."

* * *

After three days Andrew decided to do something. Nathaniel retreated to his room at regular intervals but he never stayed for long. He paced restlessly like a caged animal and tensed up at any audible noise from outside.

"You need to relax," said Andrew, from where he had settled in an armchair to read.

"Thank you for that _really helpful_ advice."

"What do you normally do to calm down?"

"I run," said Nathaniel, flopping down on the couch. He managed to sit still for seven seconds before he started bouncing his leg. "Which I can't do since I can't leave."

Andrew hummed in agreement. He had free weights in the basement for his own workout routine but there was nothing in the house for cardio. Still, there were other ways to get a heart rate up. "I could blow you," he offered. The thought appealed to Andrew. He could have Nathaniel at his mercy where he could force his mind away from worrying about who was after him. Then, when he was sated, maybe he'd stop being so goddamn fidgety.

Nathaniel snorted. "Sure."

Andrew closed his book and made to get out of his seat.

"What are you doing?" asked Nathaniel. "I thought you were kidding."

"Do I strike you as someone who makes a lot of jokes?"

"Good point," conceded Nathaniel. "Then, no. I don't… do that."

"Have sex with men? Close your eyes and pretend I'm a woman."

"That's classy," snorted Nathaniel. "And I meant that I don't have sex at all. I've never really understood the appeal."

"Orgasms cause your brain to release endorphins."

"But why would you need a second person for that? I've never trusted anyone that I'd be willing to be that vulnerable with."

Andrew shrugged. He almost never got off in the presence of another person but that was due to his own complicated relationship with both sex and his sexuality. Sexual encounters for him were about being in control and taking ownership of himself. For all that it was widely assumed that the person on their knees was subservient, he'd always found power in controlling another person's pleasure.

Andrew pushed himself out of his chair. "Alright, come on," he said.

"I said no."

"I'm aware," said Andrew, appreciating the irony. "I have another idea."

He led the way down into the basement, toeing off his shoes once he reached the padded floor and removing his hoodie for ease of movement. Nathaniel watched him suspiciously.

"How many weapons do you have on you right now?" Andrew asked.

"A normal amount," said Nathaniel, defensively.

"No weapons," said Andrew, disarming himself. He never liked the feeling of being without his knives but they'd still be in reach.

"Why?"

"We're going to fight and I don't want to be stabbed by mistake," said Andrew. "Shoes off."

Nathaniel visibly hesitated before following Andrew's instructions. It was probable that he kept at least one knife concealed but Andrew decided to let him keep a safety blanket.

They sized each other up, circling slowly.

"Try to avoid injuries," said Andrew dryly. "Let's not help out anyone who wants you dead."

Nathaniel huffed and then feinted to the right before attacking in earnest with his left hand. Andrew blocked him easily and the fight began. It was fast and brutal. Nathaniel was faster but Andrew was stronger. It had been a long time since Andrew had faced anyone who so closely matched his own skill level. Nathaniel's style reminded him of Renee's from when she'd trained him to be a better fighter by routinely beating the shit out of him.

The fight lasted a long time. Each time one of them tapped out, they reset and started again. Finally, they were both exhausted and dripping with sweat. They lay flat on their backs on the mat, panting to catch their breath.

Nathaniel pulled up the bottom of his grey t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. Andrew watched with an appreciative eye, noting scars across the other man's impressive abs.

"That's better," said Nathaniel. "Although, with my luck, whoever the Moriyamas sent to kill me is going to show up when we're both exhausted and unarmed."

"Can you imagine Kevin's reaction when he finds out we died because we were too busy fighting each other to notice an intruder?" asked Andrew. He wasn't particularly worried. He knew his security system would at least give them a warning.

Nathaniel barked a laugh, a bright and happy sound that was incongruous with his previous demeanour. "It would almost be worth it just for how annoyed he'd be." His voice was almost fond.

"You speak about him as if he's an old friend," said Andrew. Kevin had too, at the diner, taking more liberties with Nathaniel than he usually did with professional colleagues.

"We are," said Nathaniel, sounding vaguely surprised. "We grew up together."

"Odd that he never mentioned it."

"Guilt or regret, probably," said Nathaniel. "Kevin always had the tendency to bury his head in the sand. How'd you know who I was if he never told you?"

"All he ever told me about you was that you were going to be the one the Moriyamas sent after him."

"Mmm," hummed Nathaniel. "They do like to twist the knife. As well as causing extra distress for him it would have tested my own loyalty and resolve."

"Would you have been able to kill him?"

"Self-preservation has always been my most dominant trait. I've always done what was asked of me in order to stay alive. Plus, I was mad at him at the time. He left me there."

"Could he have taken you with him when he fled?"

"No, but logic doesn't apply when you're a seventeen-year-old who has just been abandoned by the only person he cares about."

"Why were you never sent after him? If it was only Tetsuji's nostalgia then Riko or Ichirou should have sent you after he died."

"He may have been a pet to them, but they never really owned him. His mother, although stupid enough to leave him in the care of the yakuza, was smart enough to have a will that ensured that they could never touch her money if Kevin died. Forcing him back into their sphere of influence was what they wanted, but Kevin's father has enough clout and contacts with both law enforcement and rival gangs that they didn't want to risk angering him once he took Kevin in."

"Kevin's father?"

"David Wymack," said Nathaniel, as if he were saying something obvious and well-known. "Didn't Kevin ever tell him?"

"Apparently not."

"I told you. Head in the sand." They lay in companionable silence for a couple minutes before Nathaniel spoke again, "How'd you get mixed up with Kevin anyway? I never understood how he convinced you to act as his guard dog."

"We met through Wymack," said Andrew. "I was one of his pity outreach projects when Kevin showed up and asked for my protection."

"In exchange for what? You don't seem like the type to do something for nothing."

"He offered to help me find purpose in my life." Nathaniel shot him a skeptical glance. "...And I have a bad habit of agreeing to help out hot guys for little reward," admitted Andrew.

Nathaniel nodded as if something had been confirmed for him. "I did assume the two of you were fucking."

"We weren't," said Andrew. "He may be hot but he's still _Kevin_. I don't think he's ever accepted the word 'no' in his life."

"He has," said Nathaniel. "Fear is a powerful motivator."

* * *

Having a way to decrease Nathaniel's pent up energy made their living situation more tolerable. He was still a sharp-tongued asshole most of the time (which Andrew didn't actually mind. He was slightly disappointed that their isolation meant that he couldn't watch Nathaniel's attitude be aimed at other people. He was sure he would enjoy that), but every couple days Andrew took him down to the basement so they could cover each other in fresh bruises.

Afterwards, as they laid on the floor to cool down, they would chat. Andrew always craved a cigarette when they did so, but he had quit cold turkey in his mid-twenties when he'd realized that he couldn't chase down suspects without wheezing like an eighty-year-old asthmatic. Tired out and as relaxed as he ever got, Nathaniel would drop his prickly attitude and reveal small truths about himself and his life. In return, Andrew found himself sharing more than he had with anyone else, save his therapist. They actually had quite a lot in common, and Nathaniel seemed to understand Andrew better than anyone else ever had.

Other than in college, when he'd been friends with Renee, he'd never had someone understand him instinctively. He'd expected to find similar people among his fellow FBI agents but although he'd become friendly with several of them the vast majority of his coworkers had personalities that reminded him of Drake: they liked having power over people and police work, like the military, was a socially acceptable way to display their hyper-masculine aggressiveness.

Nathaniel was different than they were and far more dangerous. Not only because he'd spent years working as an enforcer for a gang, but because Andrew found him interesting.

At little over three weeks into their self-imposed house arrest, Andrew was in the kitchen making a post-fight snack while Nathaniel showered. Although he had come to enjoy Nathaniel's company, their extreme isolation was starting to wear on him. He'd completed long-term protection and surveillance assignments before but this one was quite different. For one, on those assignments he'd always had backup. Sure, if anyone attacked, Nathaniel wasn't going to sit around like a damsel in distress, but Andrew alone was responsible for keeping him alive. Secondly, he'd never been completely cut off from the outside world before. He'd warned his cousin and his brother that he was going to be completely incommunicado for a month and a half before he'd gone radio silent, but it was still strange not to receive multiple texts about nothing from Nicky throughout his days.

Distracted by his wandering thoughts, he carelessly knocked the blender off the counter when he turned to grab the protein powder. It hit the floor with a resounding crash and bounced. Luckily it was made of stainless steel instead of glass but it still spilled its contents everywhere.

Nathaniel skidded into the kitchen several moments later, towel around his waist, gun in hand.

"Stand down," said Andrew, straightening from where he'd bent down to pick up the blender. "Unless you really want to teach the blender a lesson."

Nathaniel slid the safety back on his gun. "You're lucky I was already out of the shower," he said, "otherwise I wouldn't have bothered with the towel and you would have gotten an eyeful."

Andrew gave him a slow once over. His chest was more scarred than Andrew had seen from the brief glimpses he'd had. Nathaniel bore the marks of a violent life. He crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously under Andrew's gaze.

"Why would I have minded that?" asked Andrew. "We've already covered the fact that I'm attracted to men."

"Really?" said Nathaniel, gesturing downward. "Even when it's all… flaccid?"

Andrew stared at him.

"I mean, I understand being attracted to men; I've found several men pleasing to look at before. But how could _that_ —" again gesturing to his crotch "— be something that you find attractive? It's all… saggy and droopy, like an unhappy sea cucumber." Nathaniel's babbling belied his discomfort.

"If your cock looks like a sea cucumber, you should really see a doctor."

"Oh, fuck you."

"Not with your sad, limp dick," said Andrew. He then took pity on Nathaniel and dismissed him, "Go get dressed."

Andrew had managed to mop up most of the mess by the time Nathaniel returned. He was restless, which was abnormal so close to one of their fights. He kept picking at the sleeves of his long-sleeved t-shirt.

"Your father was called The Butcher," said Andrew, "and you've been an enforcer for the mob since you were in your teens."

"And?"

"You're like me," said Andrew, turning his arms so the faint marks from his long-ago self-harm were visible. "We're the kind of people who live lives that leave scars."

Nathaniel visibly relaxed.

"Have you got any that you like?" asked Andrew.

"How do you mean?"

"Some of mine I don't like to remember or talk about," continued Andrew, nodding to his forearms, "but this one—" he pointed to a jagged scar on his left bicep "—comes with a fun story. I got it fighting a cougar."

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. "Like a big cat or an older woman?"

"Cat," said Andrew.

"You fought a cougar?" asked Nathaniel in disbelief.

"FBI has jurisdiction in federal parks," said Andrew. "I was assigned to investigate several reported disappearances in one of them. I ended up stumbling into a cougar's territory when I did so." As Andrew told the story of his run-in with the cougar, Nathaniel's expression morphed from dubious to reluctantly impressed.

"Well, I've never wrestled wildlife," he said when Andrew was finished, "but I got this scar—" he rolled up his sweatpants to show a deep gouge in his right calf "—falling through a ceiling."

"Tell me," said Andrew.

"I was sneaking into someone's house through the attic and I lost my balance and stepped off of the support beam. I crashed through the ceiling, getting a slab of wood embedded in my leg for my troubles."

"Ouch."

"The worst part was that I didn't fall all the way through; I got caught at my armpits. I had to call one of my associates to come pull me out. Luckily no one was home at the time, as my position of dangling through the ceiling was a little compromised."

Andrew picked another scar to tell a story about, and Nathaniel returned the favour. They slid into easy conversation, the earlier awkwardness forgotten.

* * *

Although Nathaniel was not nearly as restless as he had been, he still didn't sleep much. Usually he'd appear not long after disappearing into his bedroom, seemingly driven out by nightmares. Andrew didn't comment, having had enough experience with his own nightmares in the past. Nathaniel was rarely communicative after he woke up; Andrew wasn't sure if his dreams were about his past or if they were caused by his anxiety about what the Moriyamas were going to do to him.

One night, when Nathaniel was peering out the drapes into the quiet night, Andrew decided to ask something that he'd been wondering ever since he recognized Nathaniel in the diner with Kevin.

"Why'd you leave them?"

"Why would I stay?" Nathaniel retorted rhetorically.

"Why now, I meant," said Andrew.

Nathaniel was quiet for a time, his eyes flicking back and forth to scan the perimeter. "Why'd you leave the FBI?" he finally asked.

Andrew considered his answer before he spoke. "Too many rules and regulations that had to be followed to the letter. Too many agents who liked to flaunt their authority. Too much corruption, with rich, important people able to bribe their way out of trouble."

"Yeah, you don't strike me as someone who does well with authority," said Nathaniel. Then, quieter, "It was Kevin."

"He convinced you to turn on the Moriyamas?"

"No one survives betraying the Moriyamas," recited Nathaniel, as if by rote. "It's one of the first things they teach you. I knew that if I left I'd likely not survive, so I needed someone I trusted to make sure I took them down with me."

"And that someone is Kevin?"

"He's been trying to bring a case against the Moriyamas ever since he got hired as a federal prosecutor, did you know that? Ichirou decided to take advantage, letting a couple things leak to him recently. All of Kevin's evidence is circumstantial; nothing will stick if he brings it to trial and Ichirou's counting on that. One failed case makes it that much harder for anyone to convince the Justice department to authorize another case against them."

"Smart."

"Mmmm. I knew that all Kevin needed was my damning testimony to ruin them. It was the best chance I'd ever get and I took it. Plus he's probably the only attorney I would ever trust to grant me immunity and keep his word."

"Are they going to go after him?"

"As long as Ichirou keeps Riko under control, then no. It only hurts them to go after a federal attorney. Besides, I'm sure most of their resources are currently occupied trying to find and dispose of me."

"I'm going to ensure that doesn't happen."

"Only until the trial. Then it's bye-bye Nathaniel. As I said, no one survives betraying the Moriyamas."

* * *

When the attack that Nathaniel had been fearing materialized, it happened quickly. Andrew only had a couple moments warning from his security system.

It was late, or technically early, in the wee hours of the morning when everything was quiet and still. Nathaniel had disappeared into his room about forty-five minutes earlier to try to get as much sleep as he could. Andrew was lying on the couch, playing a mindless game on his phone when his computer pinged and a smoke grenade was thrown through the window.

"Company!" he called, rolling off the couch, liberating the gun he stashed underneath it. He grabbed up the grenade before it could give off too much smoke, throwing it back at the intruders.

A person came crashing through the window and he heard his computer alert him that someone was breaking in the back door.

Nathaniel exited his room, fighting for alertness through his sleepiness. The person in the front room threw a knife and Nathaniel reared back as it grazed his forehead.

"Junior!" called a woman's voice from the kitchen. "I always knew we should have put you down when you were a puppy!"

Nathaniel fired his gun three times in the direction of the voice. Andrew took the opportunity to tackle the man who'd come through the window to the ground, his knives flashing.

After silencing him, he looked up. Nathaniel was white and tense, staring towards the kitchen. He didn't seem to notice the man who had gotten the drop on him. Andrew fired four times, the bullets whizzing past Nathaniel and into the man creeping up behind him.

Nathaniel started, and the woman in the kitchen shrieked in rage and fired her weapon.

"Fuck you, Lola," Nathaniel snarled as a bullet grazed his upper arm.

"Maybe, if you ask nicely," cooed the woman. "You _do_ look an awful lot like your daddy."

"And you look like a strung out whore," replied Nathaniel. Andrew crawled across the floor along the front of the couch to get a better vantage point into the kitchen.

The woman was focused on Nathaniel, seemingly having forgotten that Andrew was also present. Her eyes shone in the darkness with something like madness.

"I think I'm going to keep one of your finger bones, when I'm through with you," she said. "As a talisman for finally killing such a useless brat. You never should have—" Andrew's shot through her throat cut her off, and she slumped to the ground.

Andrew went to check his computer for any more security breaches while Nathaniel shot the woman in the kitchen three more times for good measure.

"We have to get out of here," said Andrew.

Nathaniel stared at him blankly, his pupils so large that they'd overtaken the blue, leaving him with empty black eyes.

"Now."

Andrew grabbed their bags and steered Nathaniel into the garage. He took a moment to regret all the beautiful weapons that he had to leave behind.

Their trip through the city was eerily similar to their first trip to the safe house, over a month previously. Nathaniel gripped his weapon and he watched for a tail, but his mind was clearly not completely present. He was still bleeding sluggishly and Andrew didn't notice that he wasn't wearing shoes until the first time that they switched cars. He set his car on fire to destroy the evidence of their presence.

"It's fucking February, put on some socks at least," he growled, picking a lock on a nearby car, and catching sight of Nathaniel's bare feet as he stood next to him. Nathaniel looked at him uncomprehendingly. "This is a really inconvenient time for you to have a complete mental breakdown," said Andrew, forcing Nathaniel into the passenger side seat. He shoved his bag into his lap. "Socks. And wipe up your blood."

He stole another couple cars, then abandoned them shortly after.

They walked the last two miles to his safe house, which was on the seventeenth floor in a Brentwood apartment complex that didn't have a working elevator. Andrew was grateful that he'd quit smoking by the time they made it up the stairs. He did a quick survey of the perimeter, but it took almost no time to secure. It was a studio apartment without a proper kitchen, only a mini-fridge and a hotplate.

Nathaniel was still standing vacantly where Andrew had left him. It sent a pain through Andrew's chest to see the personality of the sharp, sarcastic man he had come to know snuffed out so completely. He wasn't sure if it was the attack or the attackers that had him so off-balance.

Speaking of the attack, Andrew turned on his burner and dialed the only number on speed dial. It rang seven times before hanging up. Andrew dialed again. This time it was answered after the fifth ring.

"Wha…? Andrew? What's happening?" slurred Kevin.

"There was an attack," he said. "At the safe house. We left three bodies behind." He rattled off the address. The neighbours had likely called police due to the gunshots but he assumed that Kevin would want a head's up.

"Whose bodies?" asked Kevin. "Is Nathaniel…?"

"He's fine," said Andrew. "Or as fine as he ever gets," he amended, taking in Nathaniel's thousand yard stare. "I didn't recognize the assailants."

"Lola Malcolm," Nathaniel said in a dead voice. "Romero Malcolm. Jackson Planck. My father's associates."

"Did you get that?" Andrew asked Kevin.

"Jesus Christ," muttered Kevin. "Baltimore gangsters in Bethesda. The press is going to have a field day."

"Call if you need anything," said Andrew, hanging up and powering down his phone. He looked over at Nathaniel, who still had blood caked to the side of his head.

"Let's go," he said, pulling Nathaniel into the tiny washroom and pushing him down onto the closet toilet seat. He opened his well-stocked first aid kit to start cleaning out the cut on Nathaniel's forehead.

It wasn't a deep wound, just a slash from a knife, but head wounds tended to bleed a lot. Nathaniel also had a deep burn mark on his left bicep from where Lola had shot him.

"Old friends?" he said lightly as he wiped up the dried blood.

"They worked for my father," said Nathaniel. "I haven't seen them since he died. It makes sense that Ichirou would send them after me. He would have known that I'd freeze when I recognized them."

"That's why you have me," said Andrew, crouching down to bandage the wound on Nathaniel's arm.

"Lola was the one who taught me to throw a knife," said Nathaniel, his expression far away. "The proper way to hold it, how to balance it, how to follow through." He mimed throwing a knife with his right hand. "I used to think she was my mother since she was around the house so often and my actual mother spent most of her time holed up in her bedroom. I was terrified of her but I wanted so badly to impress her. Sometimes I was even more afraid of her than I was of my father. I was eleven the night my parents died; Jackson came to wake me up and he told me that my mother had slit my father's throat while he was sleeping and then offed herself. I forgot for a moment that he wasn't talking about Lola and I was so relieved that they were both gone. But she wasn't, of course; she took over my father's business and seemed conflicted over whether to reward me for being my father's son or punish me for being my mother's. I was happy to leave her when the Moriyamas demanded I be sent to them for training." His lips curled up into his cruel smile. "That's how easy it was to break me. All I had to do was hear her voice and I turned back into a frightened child."

Andrew wanted to erase the expression from Nathaniel's face; it was completely at odds with the man he usually was. The man who had completely captured Andrew's attention despite his best efforts to remain unaffected.

"You're not a child," he said, reaching up to tilt Nathaniel's chin downwards as he surged up to kiss him, leftover adrenaline from the fight and subsequent flight buzzing through his veins. He was shocked out of the kiss by Nathaniel grabbing his sleeve. He pulled back, appalled at himself that he'd kissed Nathaniel without consent. Nathaniel's expression was half panic and half wonder. He leaned in again.

"I am not doing this with you now," said Andrew, prying Nathaniel's fingers off his clothing.

"Why not?"

"Because you won't tell me no and this isn't a yes, it's a nervous breakdown."

"I want…" said Nathaniel before trailing off, his eyes on Andrew's face almost begging.

"I am not your answer," said Andrew, getting up and leaving the washroom.

* * *

The sun was peeking through the curtains when Andrew woke. He managed a couple hours sleep once the adrenaline rush dissipated. He must have been more exhausted than he'd thought. Between his whirling thoughts and the presence of another person in the room, he'd highly doubted that sleep was possible.

Nathaniel was still where he'd been when Andrew had slid into bed: sitting in the apartment's only chair, staring into the middle distance. At least his face wore his normal, thoughtful expression as opposed to the lost look he'd had just hours previously.

"Are you watching me sleep?" asked Andrew, sitting up and stretching.

Nathaniel blinked, brought out of his reverie. "No," he said. "That would be creepy."

"You're looking right at me."

"This place is tiny; there aren't that many places to look," said Nathaniel. "I could face the wall, I suppose." His tone was sarcastic, which made something in Andrew's chest loosen. He hadn't liked Nathaniel's personality-free blankness.

"I'm sorry you don't like the safe house I've provided, your highness," said Andrew, getting up and heading into the washroom.

When he returned to the main room, Nathaniel pointed to the hot plate. "I made coffee," he said.

Andrew grunted his thanks and poured himself a cup, sitting back on the foot of the bed. "There's enough canned food to last us for a couple weeks," he said. "We're not going to leave until then and I'm not getting anything delivered."

"You should get Kevin to pay you overtime," said Nathaniel. "Or claim a hardship surcharge or something."

"Believe me, Kevin's going to give me what I'm owed," said Andrew, taking a sip of his coffee. It was terrible instant coffee that tasted like dirt, but it was the fastest way to get caffeine coursing through his bloodstream so he choked it down.

Nathaniel fidgeted slightly. "When you said, 'I'm not doing this with you now,' did you mean, 'I'm not doing this with you ever'?" he asked.

"I don't see how it matters," said Andrew, sending him a flat look. "You said you don't."

"I said I'd never trusted anyone enough," corrected Nathaniel. "I trust you."

Andrew ruthlessly beat down the hope that bloomed in his chest. "You barely know me."

"I know enough," said Nathaniel. "You protected me."

"So this is gratitude?"

"No, it's…" Nathaniel rose and paced a few times before settling on the bed beside Andrew. "Why should I ignore this feeling just because it's new and strange? I'm probably going to be dead in a couple weeks."

"And you want to go out with a bang," said Andrew dryly.

"I want to feel something," said Nathaniel, with a shrug. "It might be a bad idea."

"Of course it's a bad idea," said Andrew, catching Nathaniel's face with his free hand and leaning in.

* * *

The way they spent the next two weeks was not actually that much different from the previous four. They slept in shifts, one keeping watch while the other slept lightly. During the day they amused themselves watching old movies or reading. And when Nathaniel got too antsy Andrew would push him down and kiss him breathless, now that they didn't have the space to fight.

Nathaniel was easy and pliant under Andrew's hands, giving over complete control. He didn't seem interested in taking things further, but he definitely enjoyed being kissed.

Andrew found that he, too, enjoyed kissing - especially once Nathaniel discovered how sensitive the skin on his neck was. All his past sexual encounters had been transactional and had not involved much kissing. He'd never spent an afternoon lazily making out without the expectation of something more. He knew that what he was doing was ill-advised since after his testimony Nathaniel would either be dead or gone, but he couldn't make himself stop. He was unimpressed with himself as he'd thought that he was smart enough not to let anyone in, especially someone with a target on his back.

The day before the trial found Nathaniel wracked with nerves. Andrew did his best to help him unwind. More than once he caught the other man watching him with an indecipherable expression.

"Don't look at me like that," said Andrew.

"Like what?"

"Like this means something. It doesn't."

"Whatever you say."

Andrew found that distracting Nathaniel with kisses erased the look from his face.

They left the safe house early on the day of Nathaniel's testimony in order to arrive at the courthouse on time despite their circuitous route.

Kevin's assistant met them when they arrived, carrying a suit for Nathaniel to change into. She was accompanied by several courthouse guards.

Nathaniel took the clothing gingerly and turned to Andrew. "I guess this is goodbye?"

"I'll see you afterwards," said Andrew.

"You're staying?"

"I really want to see the Moriyamas get taken down."

Andrew watched until Nathaniel was behind the security doors before he found a seat in the gallery of the courtroom. Kevin was already there with his co-counsel, Thea Muldani. He waved distractedly at Andrew when he caught sight of him, and raised a questioning eyebrow. Andrew gave him a lazy salute in return.

None of Nathaniel's twitchiness was visible when he took the stand. He was calm as he gave his oath, although he did stumble over his words a couple times, his eyes darting to the table where Ichirou and Riko sat as the defendants. Andrew assumed that his obvious fear would endear him to the jury. He had to convince them he was someone who had been forced to do things against his will by people he believed would kill him if he didn't.

As Nathaniel began testifying under Kevin's skilful questioning, Andrew could see that he was winning over the jury. Evidence that supported his claims had already been presented; Nathaniel's words were just the final nail in the Moriyamas' coffins. Ichirou and Riko also seemed to realize this: Riko began making wild threats and became increasingly unhinged. He was found in contempt of court and had to be escorted from the room. Ichirou sat unnaturally still, his reptilian gaze boring into Nathaniel and promising swift and painful retribution.

During cross-examination, the defense lawyer did his best to ignite Nathaniel's temper. Andrew could see Nathaniel's hands tightening into fists more than once, but he kept answering the questions calmly.

"And you received immunity for all the crimes you've committed for testifying here today?" the lawyer asked snidely.

"All the crimes that I was forced to commit by the defendants, yes."

Once Nathaniel's testimony and cross-examination were finished the judge ordered him into protective custody based on the number of threats that Riko had levelled at him before he'd been removed from the courtroom.

The testimony had taken all day, with only a short break for lunch. It had been exhausting and difficult, but Andrew assumed it was worth it. Now the facts were down in black and white, presented before a (hopefully) impartial court of law where the Moriyamas couldn't escape them.

He waited for Kevin and Nathaniel in front of the courthouse. Kevin reached him first, dark circles under his eyes.

"I think we've got them," he said tiredly.

Thea was with him, looking fierce and proud. "We've definitely got them," she said. "Even if they carry through with their threats they can't silence him now."

"That's a little mercenary," said Kevin.

She shrugged. "He knew what was likely to happen as soon as he came to you," she said pitilessly. "Why are you giving me that look? Obviously I _hope_ he doesn't get murdered."

"Same to you, Thea," said Nathaniel, approaching from the courthouse doors.

"Nathaniel," said Kevin, straightening. "I…"

"Save it Kevin," said Nathaniel. "We both know it needed to happen. What now?"

"I need you to come by my office to fill out some paperwork," said Kevin. He pointed to a towncar that was idling beside the curb at the base of the stairs. "I arranged a ride for you. I'll meet you there."

Nathaniel caught his eyes. "Thanks," he said sincerely.

Kevin nodded, hesitant, then clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. He turned to Andrew. "See you soon," he said. "We'll get lunch and I'll pay you sometime next week?"

Andrew nodded. Kevin and Thea headed to the parking lot, leaving him alone with Nathaniel.

"Well," said Nathaniel. "Thank you for keeping me alive and sane."

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

"Sane-ish?" tried Nathaniel. "I didn't think I'd actually make it this far, but we somehow managed it. You're amazing, you know."

"I'm nothing special," said Andrew.

"Agree to disagree." Nathaniel stared down at the car waiting for him. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette would you?"

Andrew shook his head and put his hands in his pockets. "I quit years ago."

"Shame," said Nathaniel lightly. "Feels like the time to have one."

"Those things'll kill you."

Nathaniel chuckled and started down the stairs. He turned back to Andrew once he reached the car and saluted. "See you around," he said.

"Sure," said Andrew, not believing it.

Nathaniel climbed into the back of the car and after a couple moments it smoothly pulled away from the curb. Less than a block away, it exploded.

Shouts of alarm echoed from all around him as people sprinted towards the flaming wreck. Sirens began to sound almost immediately. Andrew watched silently as flames engulfed the car's frame. He couldn't make himself feel surprised.

No one survived betraying the Moriyamas.

* * *

It was nearing the end of February and Andrew was completely sick of winter. He was thinking of heading somewhere warm; his payment from Kevin meant that he could afford to.

He found his door unlocked when he arrived home. The lock had been expertly picked, but then left open, as if the intruder wanted to warn him of their presence. He pushed open the door with some caution but with far less than if he hadn't already had an idea who was waiting for him.

Nathaniel was sitting at his kitchen table. His curly, auburn hair had been shorn close to his skull. This short, it was darker and no red was visible. He'd also grown a beard of roughly the same length as his hair. He had a wicked looking burn on his left cheekbone that completely obliterated the tattoo that had been there. To complete his transformation, he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. If Andrew had passed him on the street he wasn't sure he would have recognized him.

"You're dead," he said but he strode forward to tip up Nathaniel's chin in order to kiss him hello.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. My name is Neil Josten. Nathaniel Wesninski is dead and buried in Baltimore beside his parents." The newly named Neil met his eyes. "Or at least his ashes are."

"Neil," repeated Andrew, tasting the name. "It suits you. Better than the beard does, at least."

"You don't like my disguise?"

"It's adequate." Andrew tilted Neil's head to get a better look at the healing burn mark.

"I can't help but notice that you're not very surprised to see me."

"You think Kevin didn't tell me that the two of you faked your death?"

"Well, hopefully he doesn't tell anyone else," said Neil, rolling his eyes. "That would ruin all our efforts."

"What are you doing here anyway? I assumed you'd be far away by now."

"I assure you, I have no plans of staying in the northeast for any length of time."

"Where are you headed?"

"South," said Neil. "And west. The Moriyamas have no influence in that part of the country. I was thinking Phoenix because I like the whole on-the-nose rising from the ashes metaphor. I, uh," he stuttered a little and looked down at his lap, "I was wondering if you might want to come with me?"

"To Phoenix?"

"I mean, I know we haven't known each other that long, but I thought there was something between us that we could maybe explore. And if it doesn't work out you could always come back. What's keeping you in this horrible armpit city, anyway? I know you made enough money recently that you can afford to go. And—"

"You can stop rambling," said Andrew, cutting him off. "I'm going to say yes."

"Oh," said Neil, appearing relieved. "Good."

"Speaking of money, how are you planning on paying for your new life?"

Neil kicked a duffel bag out from under the table. Andrew could see that it was full of wads of cash; from the bills he glimpsed, he estimated that there was at least a million dollars sitting on his kitchen floor. He gave Neil a flat look.

"I may have liberated some of the Moriyamas' money," said Neil unrepentantly. "What Kevin doesn't know won't hurt him."

"That's what I like about you," said Andrew. "Your complete lack of a moral compass."

"Oh, you _like_ me, do you?" said Neil. "Good to know."

Andrew shook his head but leaned down to kiss Neil again. "So, Phoenix?" he said. "Then what?"

Neil smiled at him. It wasn't cruel and sharp but for the first time it was happy and free. "Then we'll see."

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).


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